Sage’s Misadventures:Behind Barn Doors

Goat heads stickers, and cheet grass covered the pasture.

As the sun rose, the hens were clucking away—

Except an unusual noise alarmed Sage from sleep. What stood between her, the dog Ember, and the chicken coop was a hunger-struck hawk. The Rooster had all the ladies pile into the nesting boxes. His wings and talons were out stretched, flapping aggressively as he fought against the intruder. A long claw had a hen by the neck, unable to bend the chicken wire, without ultimately losing out on his quick breakfast.

When the hawk sensed Sage’s presence, and his dark eyes, met her gaze and instantly flew off. Resting on the top, of the pine tree a stone throw away.

The breeze, from his wingspan, left her hair wind blown.

As she cut, off the kitchen waste,

she put, the scraps in a large plastic bowl. Tossing the scraps out sporadically, on the ground for the chickens to peck on.

Their favorite snack watermelon rinds.

Mucking stalls, was Sage’s least favorite chore. Sprinkling diatomaceous earth on the floor of pine crates was tedious.

Scooping the hay into piles and transferring the bedding into the rusted wheelbarrow.

As she cleaned the metal barn, was unpleasant. she could see her father, water the Nubian buckling Bucky. Whom stubbornly, knocked over his water every time.

Dad shook his head at the goat, then went about the major chore of mowing the lawn, accompanied by his lap chick amply named, “Princess.”

As the weather began to warm in the barn, flies began to buzz over head. As Sage straddled a ladder installing a fly trap to keep their numbers down.

An older exterior door rested against the weathered barn, she could hear the tapping of hooves, and uncontrollable bleating from the kids. Who were using the exterior door as their personal slide.

Sage couldn’t help but giggle at the site.

As she rushed inside the French doors. “Sage,” she heard he father call for her; “Get in the truck!”

“Did Olive get out again?”

“Yep, you know what to do,”he winked at his kid.

She shook her head, and sprinted to grab the lead from the tackle barn.

In her distraction,

she had forgot to flip over the wheelbarrow. What she would come home to would be comical to say the least.

As Sage, hopped in the passenger seat, “Keep your eyes peeled for her okay?”

“Gotcha Dad!”

Dad went around the neighborhood block, when he spotted the calf. Resting underneath a shade tree.

“Come on Oli, that’s quite an adventure for one day!”

He had slack on the lead, as he pulled the calf beside the Toyota truck.

When Sage returned home, she found Neapolitan her doe playing in the Wheelbarrow looking like she was royalty.

So Sage deemed her Queen of the wheelbarrow!

Tending to animals was a full time responsibility and downright exhausting.

***

Since her adolescence, mama has never stopped working with animals. Except instead of processing them like her father, and uncles.

My mother took a kinder approach, running a micro pig sanctuary.

That’s when our family welcomed a retired breeder pig Lucy with lopsided teats. She loved to dig up, the roots of the rose bushes with her snout, searching for grub.

***

I had asked my mother how my parents met.

After the county fair, Henry Fuller infatuation with Fern Reed grew.

By the time the childhood friends entered high school. Fern was catching the bus by, her Uncle Gilman’s property that was over a cattle guard.

While Henry was given a salmon Studebaker Lark VI for his birthday. His prized violin, took a back seat for the first time, when he rolled to a stop. “Hey Fern! Wanna ride?” He Hollered out the window.

“Shucks! “ She nodded, realizing I’m the only one waiting for the bus, to get here so...

Henry found humor, in all of her barn tales, as she talked with such conviction, I could really picture the animals coming to life.

Henry and Fern were hitched in the barn, Christmas lights strung from the rafters. As the couple said their vows; Fern, grabbed a single hay bale, by the strings, and used the straw as a step stool looking into Henry’s eyes.

He snorted out loud admiring her determination.

Andrew was Henry’s best man. He hushed the bridal party; so the near by chorus of bull frogs singing a familiar tune, could be heard dueling the chirp of crickets.

The fanfare never died on orb weaver spider intricate webs.

The whole town convinced, Gilman’s farm had prolific spiders in the eaves of the old weathered barn. They are the first non sticky webs of their kind!

Sage loved to hear the story of how they met, as my father doesn’t play as much anymore.

Uncle Andy had a small green house,I went to see if he needed help harvesting tomatoes. From the ground, unearthed a small brown frog. Jumped out of my skin. He laughed, “ A. little frog won’t hurt ya Sage!”

Even though I believe him, the sight of the frog made my skin crawl.

On the walk home eagles were swooping the power lines resting all stoic like. Oh no, I forgot to put away the chickens in the coop!

I could feel my stomach, sink as I ran towards the house. An eagle had a grip on my silkie rooster Elvis carrying him off into the big blue. I held my head, as it was a simple mistake!

Inside, “ what’s wrong, Dad asked gruffly.

“I forgot to put the chickens in the coop!” I admitted.

“Sage! Gah! How many times, I have to remind you, if I don’t remind you forget!”

“I know dad!”

“That’s your answer for everything miss know it all!”

I just sulked into the hall and plopped down on my bed. Elvis would always be the first to greet me when I check the eggs. Always demanding a hug. I am never going to see him again. The thought made myself tear up.

The next morning, Sage revived a call from her cousin.

“ Hey Sage, we think we found Elvis! He lives! The eagle dropped him into our neighbors winter wood pile.”

I let out huge sigh of relief! “I’ll be by shortly!”